


Dorking Out for Fun and Profit

by thinlizzy2



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. RPF
Genre: First Meetings, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 10:41:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2770046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinlizzy2/pseuds/thinlizzy2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The very first time Chloe brought out the inner dork in Brett, she managed to change both their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dorking Out for Fun and Profit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [catteo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/catteo/gifts).



> Written for catteo for Yuletide 2014. Thank you so much for introducing me to how delightful these two are together! The videos were great!

He just wants this so damn badly.

Playing Grant Ward may just be the big break Brett Dalton's spent his whole life waiting for. In fact, this entire Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. thing is a struggling actor's dream come true in a lot of ways. It's not just a major network television show with a hell of a pedigree behind it and pretty much a guaranteed built in audience. It's also got links to the hottest film franchise of the century, one that's known for making stars out of the lucky new talent it chooses to highlight. This could be the thing that liberates him from cheesy commercials, catalogue modelling shoots and walk-on one-line parts (when he's lucky) and cater-waitering and dog-walking (when he's not). Playing Grant Ward will change his whole life.

That is, if he's the lucky one chosen out of what appears to be six million guys who look just like him and would also give their left eyes for the job. 

To be totally honest, he'll be lucky if he even gets _seen_ before the producers make their choice. The place is packed with potential Wards and they're already frustratingly behind schedule.

He shifts and squirms in his chair as the minutes and then the hours tick by, trying not to look openly uncomfortable in case anyone with actual decision-making power notices a grimace on his face and decides he's a whiny prima donna and therefore not even worth a shot. He sips water - coffee or tea could leave a stain on his teeth and he doesn't want the producers to feel like they have to make a choice between someone with impeccable oral hygiene and that yellow-toothed Dalton guy. 

Other Ward wannabes disappear into the back room, the mysterious make or break room of decisions, and then come out again. He doesn't worry about the guys who are in and out in five minutes. He knows they aren't the one. And so do they; their tight-lipped, closed-off expressions mean that they're far too aware that they aren't going to be able to cancel their auditions next week for Hunky Waiter or Jealous Asshole At The Club. The ones that are in there for longer, the guys that come out with private smiles and a bounce to their walks, they're the dangerous ones. Brett knows he shouldn't - they're just actors like him, just guys hoping for a chance to prove themselves, but he hates them.

A bang sounds from down the corridor, followed by delighted squealing. Grateful for the distraction, Brett goes to the door and looks for the source of the noise. An attractive young couple spill out of one of the side rooms, talking so quickly and excitedly that it takes Brett a moment to realize that they're speaking in British-accented English and not a foreign language. The girl grabs the guy by the elbows and spins him in a delerious half-circle and then they hug before disappearing down the stairs in a flurry of talk about celebrating down at the pub and needing to call their mums.

He smiles, genuinely happy for them. He's not sure what roles they just landed or in what project, but the skinny curly-haired guy is obviously no Ward, and so no threat to him. It's always good to see some people actually making it; it reminds them all that it's actually possible. Plus he's bored out of his skull by now, practically ready to start climbing the walls, and the British pair have been the most exciting thing to happen all day.

Until a door on the other side of the room opens, and all of a sudden a stream of women make their way in. They are - down to the very last girl - young, brunette, and startlingly beautiful. It's almost laughable, like some sort of supervillain distraction from a James Bond movie, except for what they might possibly mean.

Sure enough, some guy in a suit appears behind them. They're running late and some of the producers have to go. So they're going to start auditioning Wards and Skyes together, to save time. So if everyone would look at page eighty, they all have basically no time to memorize a scene that could make or break their careers. Of course.

Brett feels his heart sinking. He's spent the last week perfecting his two monologues. He's videoed homself, practiced in front of the mirror, paid for extra sessions that he honestly can't even begin to afford with his acting coach. All for nothing, because if he even manages to get seen it's now going to come down to speedy memorization and hastily manufactured chemistry with a stranger. He bites back the complaints, and sees other actors consciously doing the same. A few guys moan a bit, but they all no there's no real point. It's par for the course, and if they don't want to do it they can just leave. There are plenty of other people ready to take their places.

Brett turns to the scene, but the words are swimming in front of his eyes. He's been avoiding the snack table until now, not wanting to risk having a bit of a paunch or something stuck in his teeth when his moment comes. But he can't learn a new scene on an empty stomach, so he fills a plate with carrot and celery sticks, avoiding the hummus in case it makes his breath stink.

"I've decided Skye's a white chocolate kind of girl." The voice takes him by surprise.

Brett turns to find one of the brunettes addressing him. "Excuse me?"

"Skye. She likes white chocolate best." The woman holds up a bonbon. "Specifically, she likes these little white chocolate things with the coconut flakes and the strawberry insides. These are her favorites."

Brett stares at her. He's heard of people doing in depth character development before an audition, but this seems particularly extreme. "How do you figure?"

"Well, they're _my_ favorites", she informs him. "And if Skye likes them too then I can eat all I want and call it work."

It's so unexpectedly honest that he snorts out loud. The sound echoes in the quiet room.

The actress grins, obviously happy to have made him laugh. "I'm Chloe", she says, offering him a hand to shake.

He takes it. "Brett. Brett Dalton."

Chloe leans in close and lifts her eyebrows conspiratorially. "These things are the worst, aren't they?"

It's incredibly unprofessional to complain, but for some reason she makes him feel a bit reckless. Maybe its the absurdity of the fact that he seems to have gotten his hopes up over what's to be turning into just another disorganized cattle call or possibly it's the novelty of meeting a young actress who's willing to admit she eats at all, let alone chocolate. Or maybe it's just something in her face. She looks like _fun_. For whatever reason, he decides to be straightforward. "This one's pretty brutal."

"You know what would make this better?" She takes him by the arm like they're already old friends and leads him to a pair of seats. She unzips her bag a bit and holds it up so he can peek inside. "Look what I've got", she whispers gleefully.

He's about to tell her that he doesn't drink before auditions, or do any kind of drugs at all, when he gets a look at what her treasure really is. He raises his eyebrows. " Seriously? "

She nods.

Two hours later, an exhausted Jed Whedon emerges from his office. The day has been tiring, to say the least. There's been some success; he's thrilled to have finally found the perfect Fitz and Simmons, but Skye and Ward are proving a lot more elusive. A lot of the people coming in for the roles are fine in theory, a few have even been rather good on their own. But no one has been able to nail the _dynamic_ yet, the special sort of relationship he wants for these characters in the first part of the season. Ward is particularly challenging. None of the actors they've seen have understood how much Ward lives in his head, how much the ease and speed of his connection with Skye takes the troubled young man by storm. Jed hasn't been able to explain it in a way of them could understand, and now he's tired, discouraged and not up for any more disappointment. He's just going to have to ask the remaining hopefuls to return tomorrow.

Or at least that's his plan, until he sees Brett Dalton and Chloe Bennet sprawled out in a corner of the room. They're sitting on Brett's sports jacket, carefully pressed for this occasion but now a wrinkled mess. With their scripts, head shots and other paraphernalia lying abandoned beside them, they're snacking on hummus and white chocolate candies, utterly and completely absorbed in the deluxe edition Battleship game that Chloe brought along. Brett's meticulously highlighted script with all its painstakingly detailed notes lies abandoned to the side.

Whedon feels a smile spreading slowly across his face. He turns to Marissa, who is beaming beside him. "Want to just see those two before we call it a day?"


End file.
